


My heart aches for you

by thisfuckindouchebag



Category: South Park
Genre: Creek trash, Fluff, Freeform, Love, M/M, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisfuckindouchebag/pseuds/thisfuckindouchebag
Summary: Craig contemplates emotions





	1. An Aching

**Author's Note:**

> I will most likely add on interactions and conversations between the two of them in separate chapters because I'm very dedicated to this ship

Sometimes the emotions I feel hurt. It’s not always inherently bad but the feelings almost create physical pain. An ache. Almost a longing. 

The first time I really noticed was when I was 12. My parents fought a lot and I was supposed to ignore it, I was supposed to be this grown man that I didn’t know how to be. I would distract my sister, turn on a movie nice and loud and let her fall asleep in my room. What else could I do? I had friends who’d open up and trust me to understand and move on, to help or protect them but I couldn’t. I started to feel empty and alone all the time- even when I was surrounded by the people I enjoyed, who loved me. That summer I was put on antidepressants and mood enhancers.

The feelings still came, the medication really helped but the ache still persisted a lot of the time. A lingering feeling that something was wrong but with no understanding of what or how to stop it. I know now it’s just part of living; working through our individual demons every day and persisting through some semblance of “normalcy” until we can achieve something to make us feel accomplished or worth something. 

Now though, the ache hurts, almost burns whether or not you’re with me. I thought it was just missing you for a while so I’d walk to the shop or text you but it’s just getting worse. Tweek, I don’t know what you did to me but you physically make my heart hurt. Sometimes I wish it would stop but usually I wait for the burn to engulf my entirety and destroy me. It makes me grin like an idiot, it makes me think of you, it makes me feel like a fucking girl to the point I want to jump around and write love poems. 

Every example of “true love” I have in my life though is a couple holding onto scraps of what once was or downing liquor to deal with the fucked up choices you made so… I don’t want this to be love but theres no other way to describe it.  
I dont have the words  
I don’t have the talent or wherewithal to express the aching in my chest for you.  
I don’t know if I ever will.

When you tell me you love me though? Boy, does that dull aching turn into fire. The flames lick at my throat and I lose the words- I lose the thoughts and bravado and I’m left suffocating. I want to tell you exactly how you make me feel but I don’t think words do justice. I’ll kiss you until you pull the words out of me. I’ll kiss you until eternity is over and there’s finally enough time to explain exactly what happens in my heart and soul for you.


	2. Shared scents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dang paranoid blond happily lingers on intimacies and aloof nerd says some words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these are kinda short but I'm getting back into the writing biz.   
> Also these gay nerds really get at me so I need to contribute to their love while I'm without a sketchbook ha a ha

When we lay together I like to find the traces of myself in you. I enjoy smelling you and, while you have a distinct flavor, knowing the shampoo you use is one we share and your clothes smell like my fabric softener. I like tracing over the small mountains where my nails dug into your skin. I like knowing I helped you pick out your, now grown out, haircut. I like finding the bruises I bit into your skin and running my fingers over the trails of hair that drive me crazy. I like resting my head on your collar bone and feeling your minty breath against my hair when you get into bed at night. My favorite thing, though, are the big genuine smiles that only I get to see and love. 

I never thought the asshole I considered a friend as a kid could turn into a constantly supportive presence in my life despite all the weirdness and damage. Maybe we’re the only people we can understand, and truly, I’m perfectly okay with that because my world is blue eyes and soft expressions and I don’t think I can function anymore without you. We’re people. We’re individuals. But we’ve created a duality I’m so attached to; I think I need you.

 

“I love you” I whisper, shy and unsure, though the hearts that form in your eyes is evidence enough I’ve hooked you as much as you have me. It’s not unusual. The quiet moments get me thinking and, sure, we’ve turned on a weekly movie queue, and the buzz is starting to creep in, but I can’t help but give my heart to you.

“Ow.” He pouts, turning fully to me on our dingy, patched up couch, leaning his head down to rest on my shoulder. 

“Am I in trouble?” I ask, pressing my ear to his head. Trying to absorb how I hurt him through brain waves. 

“You’re too much. I’m overwhelmed.” He drones, tilting his head to softly peck my neck. I melt, lifting my arms to wrap around his dumb shoulders and he shifts out of the awkward angle he was bent at, considering the height he has on me, opting instead to flop completely into my side.

“Oh no. My love is too powerful.” I laugh  
“What do the romantics say? ‘Kiss me breathless’ or something” He offers, finding a grip on my left shoulder to pull me more into him, face almost helpless. I indulge, smooching the pathetic look off his dumb emotionally constipated face. My hands find their way to the sides of his face, rubbing my thumb against the texture of his sideburns. 

“Every soft lyric ever spoken with adoration.” He states simply when we pull apart. Lazily gazing at each other through the dull lighting of the television in my bedroom.  
“What?” I question, begging for clarification.  
“The words I don’t have.”  
“You have them now.” I murmur, shaking my head softly, “It’s not that hard.”

 

He sighs, “You make me feel sick…” He starts, and I want to cry because I could swear I trusted the looks and the gentle caresses but maybe feelings aren’t always motivation for taking care of someone. “I want to rip my heart out of my chest sometimes because it aches if I’m not around you but it’s almost worse when we’re like this. Soft and gentle. Things I’m not supposed to have. A perfect human being is so unabashedly in love with me, you make me want to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed I am because of you.” I breathe, “I’m so desperately in love with you?”

“Craig…” I offer, giving him the excuse to stop.

“Can you just like- hold me for the next forty years? That’d be great.” He decides, flopping into my arms again. I sit there happily, burying my nose in his smooth dark hair and taking in the intimacy, the I love yous, the lingering scent of our shared shampoo sitting on this loser’s scalp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey comments would be cool if you enjoy this at all  
> also hmu on tumblr, maybe even give me a request or something? http://lifeisawoman.tumblr.com


End file.
